Hold My Hand
by igirisexual
Summary: Yao and Ivan are the best of friends, and they have been for years. Hidden and feared feelings become a problem all too soon. RoChu. Oneshot.


**the prompt was 'hold' and i picked rochu cos i love rochu!**

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"Take off your gloves!"

"Yao, it's cold, I don't want to-"

"I wasn't asking your opinion, just do it!"

The bickering continued for a moment more, before Ivan let out a sigh, and conceded. Gloves now off and in the pocket of his coat, he held his hands out as if to show Yao that yes, they were off now.

Yao did not speak, just placed his small hands against Ivan's. "See, they're all warm and they can make my frozen fingers better," he whined, using this as a ploy to touch the Russian, who just let out a sigh.

Ah, Ivan and Yao were the best of friends. Yao had just graduated high school, and Ivan was in his last year. They were pretty much inseparable, excepting Ivan's class times. The only thing that irked Yao, though, was that Ivan was painfully oblivious to his more ardent feelings.

It was winter, and snow coated the school grounds as the two sat at the edge of the oval. The thing was, at the edge of the oval, there was a fence, and then a property. Yao would sneak through this yard and then vault the fence at Ivan's lunchtimes just to be with him.

Too soon did the school bell sound, and Yao let out a soft groan or irritation.

"I'll walk with you to your class, I guess," mused Yao, moving one hand to his pocket, and keeping the other in Ivan's own. "I'm so glad I don't have to come to this shitty place anymore," he chuckled.

"Lucky you," scoffed Ivan, glancing to Yao's hand. "May I have my hand back now?"

"Nope," Yao laughed, shifting it so that he was gripping gently onto his friend's hand. "I'm going to hold your hand and take you to class. Let's set off."

"Uh, isn't that kind of weird?" the Russian murmured, standing up and watching as his friend did the same.

Yao scoffed, before letting out a soft laugh. "What? No way!"

"It makes us seem like we're d-"

A short burst from Yao cut off Ivan's statement. "Girls hold hands all the time! So it's totally normal, 'kay?"

Ivan raised a brow, but shrugged it off and let Yao tug him off to class.

"You do realise that I have English now, and it's in the other direction, right?" he queried, noticing Yao's hand squeezing his own ever so slightly.

"Uh, yeah, I was just, uh," Yao stammered, embarrassed over his silly mistake.

"Let's go," chuckled Ivan, swinging his friend's arm a little as he turned them around to head to the Languages block.

It was too quickly for Yao that they reached the right room, and they would have to part again. "Well, this is goodbye for now," he puffed, hesitating on letting go of Ivan's hand.

In return, Ivan cupped both hands over Yao's, smiling. "See you at break, comrade." He purred, before moving his hands to get his books out. With pink cheeks and a smile, Yao shuffled off.

During Ivan's class time, Yao headed back out of the school grounds, and off to the local fast food joint. He only had the coins on him to buy a pair of frozen cokes, but that was enough. Only as he walked out of the store did he realise that this was a harebrained decision, considering the weather and how chilly it was. Yao wondered how he even graduated with his _ever-so-intelligent_ mind.

He sat on the edge of the oval for a while, smiling as he finally saw Ivan walking towards him. Yao held up one of the drinks as a kind of greeting, complete with an offer.

"Welcome back," Yao hummed, a soft smile curling his lips.

"Good to be back," chirped Ivan, who had been put in a seemingly good mood.

"You seem happier than normal." As he passed over one of the drinks, Yao furrowed his brow. "What was your grade?"

"Oh, I got a B-, but that's not why I'm so happy," he cooed, sitting down beside his companion and sipping at his beverage.

"Well, do tell." Yao ran a hand through his hair, much amused. "Don't leave me hanging."

Ivan just tutted and smirked. "It's a secret, Yao. I can't tell even you."

"If you're going to keep secrets from me, you realise you have a price to pay," Yao whined, lending his outstretched palm to Ivan.

"You know I don't have any money," the student mused, raising a brow.

The Chinese boy rolled his eyes, and shifted his hand a little. "Hold it, my fingers are cold."

Ivan's reaction caused Yao to feel just a touch disgruntled. The boy paused, before gently pushing Yao's hand back toward him. "I can't." He stated with a little smile.

"Oh, uh, sorry," Yao mumbled, not sure how to react. Had he been too pushy, or was it that he was trying too hard to get Ivan's romantic attention? Now he began to inwardly fret. Dejectedly, he put his hand back in his lap.

"I guess it couldn't hurt to tell you the secret-that-isn't-really-a-secret," Ivan whined, tapping his chin. "She asked me to keep it a secret, though, poor thing,"

This aroused Yao's suspicions. She? Who was _she_? The look in his eyes seemed to demand an answer from Ivan.

"Madeline- You remember Madeline?" He started, only fueling Yao's worries. The boy nodded.

"She gave me her number," Ivan cooed softly, face lit up by his beaming smile. Yao felt sick.

"Good for you, chubby cheeks," he mumbled, putting down his drink and staring up to the cloudy sky in thought. It was then that he decided that he would have to take action before Ivan and Madeline even had a chance to hit it off. Damn it all.

"I thought I told you not to call me that," puffed Ivan, covering his cheeks with his hands.

Sighing, Yao pushed a smile onto his lips. "Sorry, I'll just save it for special occasions."

Their chatter was quiet from then to the end of the break, Yao still trying to get over a brain-freeze.

"I'll meet you at the gate when last period is over, Yao," Ivan cooed, before he turned, and went off to class.

As he passed the fence and headed back out to the street, Yao's insides ached with turmoil. Did he even have the courage to make a move? It'd been a hard year of holding onto these feelings, and it was painful when Ivan didn't even acknowledge the little passes he made here and there. Past loves had been luckless for Yao; he didn't even _want_ to remember how his former relationship with that Arthur Kirkland had turned out. There was that one time he had ended up in a secret relationship with one of the teachers, Romulus, but that's a story for another time.

Pacing along the pavement, Yao's thoughts just grew ever grim. If Ivan and Madeline ended up together, it was most probably game over for him. He knew Madeline; she was the type of girl for long and committed relationships, even if she had to hide them from her parents. And Ivan.. Yao only wished he knew what Ivan was looking for. If he didn't make the step and confess to the Russian, there was a painful chance that he'd never get to kiss those slightly chapped lips; there was an agonizing chance that he'd never be able to hold him tight like he dreamed.

He would confess this afternoon.

Yao was already at the gate when Ivan showed up, and he smiled faintly. "How was class?" he enquired as the two started walking down the street and away from the school.

"It was alright," Ivan said softly, hands buried in his pockets.

"Alright," Yao chuckled back, releasing a soft sigh. "Ivan, do you mind if we stop in at the park for a bit? I have some time before I'm due home, and I want to talk to you about something." That 'something' was making his butterfly-filled stomach churn.

"You can tell me anything, you know that," Ivan insisted. "Going to the park's okay with me."

"Yeah, yeah," Yao puffed back, hiding his hands in his pockets as well. With that said, they walked off together and eventually reached the aforementioned park.

"This is so dumb," Yao mumbled to himself as he sat down; he didn't realise that he was speaking his thoughts aloud. He did have a bad habit of doing that.

"What's dumb, exactly?" Ivan quipped, curious.

Yao froze, glancing up to his friend. Ah, there he went, talking without thinking again. Well, fake it until you make it, Yao. "Uh, me. I'm the dumb one, and I have something I need to confess!" He was forcing the words out now.

Ivan pouted. "You aren't dumb at all. But um, go ahead." Now, he paused, for Yao to speak.

"Ivan, I.." he trailed off. Impulsively, he stuck out one hand towards Ivan, the other covering his face. "Hold my hand."

"I can't-.. Yao, I don't think-"

"I wasn't asking what you think. Just-.. Please."

Sighing, the Russian took a light hold of Yao's hand, giving his friend a brief moment of comfort. Now, Yao was choking on the words he had previously refused to spit out.

"I'm in love with you."

The statement was quiet, uncharacteristically so for Yao, who was usually such a raucous person. In fact, it was spoken in little more than a whisper. And it caught Ivan completely off guard. At first, he was shocked, but his alarm slowly dwindled, fading into melancholy.

"Oh, I see now," he uttered, hand lingering in Yao's for only a moment longer, before he returned it to his side. "Yao, I'm sorry."

Every word from the Russian spoke caused Yao to fill with more dread and anxiousness.

"I'm seriously looking into a relationship with Madeline," he said softly. If you listened closely, you could hear Yao's heart shattering within his chest. "And you know that I'm not into guys.."

"I could be a girl if you wanted me to!" Yao insisted, staring up at his friend with hurt copper eyes. "I already look the part, don't I?" he pressed, on the verge of tears. "I'll wear skirts and bows and anything, just give me a chance!"

"I'm sorry," echoed Ivan, just looking to Yao. He was pitiful as he was right now, begging and pleading. "Even if you were a girl, I don't think you'd be my type, Yao," he continued, trying to ignore the sharp cries that Yao was eliciting. He had always been a crybaby. "It's just strange if we've been best friends for so long, and I don't want that to change."

Yao, trembling and teary-eyed, stood, hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Forget I even told you, alright?.. Just forget it.." he muttered, and slowly, he turned, jumped the fence, and left.

"I don't think I can." Ivan said to himself as he watched Yao leave.

That event was enough of a rift to tear a gaping hole in their friendship. It wasn't apparent at first, but as Ivan and Madeline grew closer, Yao drifted further and further away. At some point, he stopped coming to visit Ivan at school, only seeing him when one of them visited the other's home. Phone calls were short and precise, and they were all ones where Ivan had called Yao. It was never the other way around. Slowly, Yao began to stop answering Ivan's calls, and they fell apart even more, until their friendship had been practically erased.

Yao spent most of his days curled up in his bed, crying about his mistakes, or getting himself lost in a book to try and forget his blunders; meanwhile, Ivan spent more and more time with his girlfriend, Madeline. Yao wanted to move on, and he swore he would, but the pounding loneliness in his heart refused to go away.

On lonesome evenings, he would clasp his hands together and pretend that one of them belonged to Ivan. He would cry and tell the air in front of him to hold his hand. To stop questioning it. To just do it. But each time he imagined so, the image of Ivan turning him down flashed before his eyes, and he grew upset once again. Slowly, he parted his lips, and uttered something ever so soft.

"Hold my hand, Ivan."

It never really stopped hurting.

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**you can read the ending written by my friend and fellow author laveniis at www dot fanfiction dot net/s/9937920/1/For-You-I-ll-Try!**


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